The Typical Life of an OC
by A Tragic Galaxy
Summary: Every learned female OC knows the rules of Inheritance Cycle fanfiction.  You obtain a special power, con everyone into believing you're on their side, save the world, and marry your favorite character. Sadly, I seemed to botch everything from rule one.


Every learned female OC character knows the rules of participating in an Inheritance Cycle fanfiction. You obtain some unforseen power, con the good guys (or bad guys) into believing you're on their side, save the world, and marry the hottest guy in the story. Unfortunately, I seemed to botch everything from rule one.

To save time, I should mention that I managed to completely flunk all four of the rules mentioned above. The first task of a female OC is to obtain some unnatural power. I figured Galbatorix's green egg was a good start. Bad news. It wouldn't hatch. Worse news. I have a bad temper. Worst of all, I'm good at breaking things.

Needless to say, I shattered the last dragon egg over Galbatorix's head, thereby breaking rules one and two during my first day in the castle. My life being at risk, I decided to skip to rule four. Murtagh was obviously the hottest (and second most powerful) guy in the castle, so naturally I turned to him first. Sadly, he didn't seem to appreciate fawning young women who hid behind his cloak every time Galbatorix walked by. So I tried the feisty approach and challenged him to a duel. He didn't take well to that either. I was beginning to note a consistency in my failed attempts.

Rule four being scratched off the menu, I decided it was time to save the world. I tried using magic to free Murtagh from Galbatorix, but I only succeeded giving him a nasty headache. And that made him _really _mad. Stealing Thorn didn't work either. I wound up snagged upside down in a tree for the remainder of the night.

All due circumstances considered, I realized my problem. I was obviously trying to fulfill my dreams on the wrong side of the battleline. So saying, I ran away to the Varden. I can't say the Empire missed me, especially since I did manage to fulfill one unwritten OC task and live through whatever attempts they made on my life. At least I was doing _something_ right.

Finding the Varden's hideout was no big deal, as every female OC is supposed to be able to locate it with their supernatural instincts.

Needless to say, I got lost.

Three days of wandering in the Hadarac Desert did nothing for my complexion, and I don't think I made much of an impression on the cute soldier who guided me back to the Boer mountains. The Varden were welcoming enough... if throwing you in a dungeon for not showing them your memories is considered common courtesy. Rule two was scratched off the menu. I tried blowing the door off its hinges in my rage, but I only succeeded in breaking my hand. Good news, Eragon himself came to heal it. Bad news, he was already in love with someone else. For some reason my tragic story of torture behind enemy lines didn't seem to make him anything more than a sympathetic listener. I was rather hoping he'd feel an overwhelming urge to protect me. Rule four was scratched off the list once more.

I was finally let out of prison, but I had a feeling rule three would prove impossible. I still hadn't obtained any spectacular powers, and every time I tried to help my allies I wound up giving someone a concussion. Eragon kindly begged me to stay out of the battle. Great. Disaster prone and ill tempered, I spent the rest of the day sulking. At least the cute soldier had some sympathy for me and helped me configure a disguise so I could fight.

The battle wasn't as glorious as I would have imagined. There was blood. Lots of blood. Harold (the cute soldier) and I wound up sitting that particular skirmish out. We started yakking about life and it's weird turns of events, and before we knew it the war had ended. Eragon had won of course, and Galbatorix was dead. Guess it's a good thing I wasn't on the Empire's side.

After this I figured it was time for me to go. The story was over now, and Murtagh was screaming at the top of his lungs for the Varden to "Get her _away_ from me!" Funny, he seemed more terrified of me than the prospect of his capture. I never knew I made such a terrible impression. It was kind of harsh, really. Despite everything I still hadn't managed to complete one of the four neccessary tasks for a typical female OC character. Luckily, Harold gave me a shoulder to cry on.

Two hours later I fled the Varden, being accused of high treason for disobeying a commander's orders, fratenizing with the enemy, and hiding vital military information. (Not to mention breaking Eragon's arm when I tried to use a bow and arrow during the battle.) Yes, my adventures in the Inheritance Cycle were _definately_ over. Still, at least I had managed to steal Morzan's sword. And Harold.


End file.
